Folk Tales/Bad Luck and Blessings
Bad Luck and Blessings appeared as a text story on the Purple Moon Place website. It was featured on Darnetta's secret pouch page. On the link to the story Darnetta says, "I like this story because something bad turns out to be good..." The Story Princess Simi was eight years old when raiders came to her village. They burned the houses and took many of her people as slaves. Simi’s parents, the King and Queen, were killed. Simi was taken aboard a slave ship and carried to a distant land. In this land the weather was hot and wet. Tigers lurked in the bushes and snakes crawled into your bed. Simi was sold to a family as a kitchen girl, the lowest form of slave in the house. Her hands, which had never worked before, became blistered and sore from scrubbing the pots and floors. The cook beat her if she was slow. She never had enough to eat or wear. Simi was scared – and angry! Why were these terrible things happening to her? She was a princess and deserved better! But as the days went by, she learned how to make soup and bake bread and do many other things that a Princess would never do. She still missed her home dreadfully, but only when she had time to think of it. Then, when Simi was 12 years old a fever swept through the countryside, and the family she worked for fell ill. Almost everyone died, even the cook. They could no longer afford servants, so Simi was sold again – this time to some silk weavers. The weavers had no use for a kitchen girl, but fortunately Simi’s hands were so little and quick that she was soon put to the task of spinning thread. As she grew older, she learned to use the loom and to weave colored patterns into the fabric. She was allowed to eat with the family and to wear bright dresses. It wasn’t home, but it was a good life. Then, when Simi was 15, a great typhoon swept into the weavers’ town. Their house was crushed into mud and all their looms were destroyed. Some of them were swept into the river. Hundreds of people took to the roads, poor as beggars, looking for a new town in which to live. For the third time, everything Simi had was gone. What horrible luck! What had she done to deserve such a life? Simi wandered away from the ruined town and toward the mountains. There she met an old man tending his goats. When she begged him for food, he took her to his house. Inside were many hides of tanned leather piled on the floor. From the ceiling hung dozens of leather shoes and sandals. The old man, she learned, was a cobbler who spent his summers making shoes and his winters selling them in the towns. Simi stayed that night, and the next and the next. Gradually she learned how to soften and tan the goat hides. She dyed the leather with herbs and roots into rich dark colors. She hammered tiny nails into the soles of shoes. Although it was often lonely and quiet in the mountains, she was not unhappy. When winter came, Simi and the old man traveled in an open wagon, selling their shoes. One frosty night, when the moon was gone and the road was dark, robbers fell upon the cobbler’s wagon. They captured his ox and stole his money and threw the old man to the ground. Simi hid behind a tree and waited until the robbers were gone. But the old man was dead and the wagon was empty. Simi sank to the ground and cried. For a fourth time she was left lost and alone. How could she bear to go on? Left with nothing but her stout leather boots and her goatskin coat, Simi made her way to the sea. Tall ships and small boats rocked together in the harbor, ready to sail to distant lands. Simi heard of an island famous for its weaving – so she traded her coat and boots for passage in a boat. During the journey, however, a storm rose and carried the boat far off course. Waves as big as mountains rolled over it. Rocks as sharp as teeth munched it and crunched it and spit it out onto the shore. The next thing she knew, Simi was lying alone on a sandy beach. The sun was hot and her head was pounding. Every muscle in her body ached. Her tongue was swollen from thirst. Simi thought perhaps she should stay where she was and die. With her luck, what was the use in getting up? But there came to her the sound of drums and flutes playing and many people singing. As the noise grew louder, she realized they were passing her way. A tall man in dark robes was leading a group of young women, all richly dressed. Curious, Simi followed the crowd as it circled the shoreline and entered the fairest town she had ever seen. Soon they came to a great hall. On its steps sat a young man on a throne. His face was noble and wise. The tall man in dark robes said, “Today we choose our queen. This land is a small land, and it has no slaves. Whoever would be queen must know how to care for herself and her family.” Then he asked each girl to step forward. As they did, he asked, “What can you do?” “I know how to play the harp,” some said. “Music makes a glad ear but a poor coat,” said the tall man. “I know how to paint,” others said. “Art warms the heart but not the feet,” said the tall man. “I know how to make candied roses,” still others said. “Candy soothes the tongue but not the stomach.” The king looked disappointed. Were all these maidens as useless as they were beautiful? As Simi watched, her heart beat faster. She was covered in sand, her clothes were tattered, and her hair was stiff with sea salt. She did not look like someone fit to be queen! But she stepped forward anyway and said, “I know how to weave silk into robes.” “Silk makes a royal coat,” said the tall man. “And I know how to make shoes from leather,” said Simi. “Leather saves the softest feet,” said the tall man. “And I can bake bread and make soup,” said Simi. “Bread and soup keep the stomach full,” said the tall man. The king rose and held out his hand to Simi. She lifted her head and walked proudly up the steps. “How did you come to know all these things?” he asked her. “Once I thought it was through bad luck,” replied Simi. “Now I see that all of them were blessings.” And from that day on, she was queen.